Lyrics:
the corny forms
(And we're in, your neighborhood) on the norms
Capture, was to, whack ya
Manufacture, you can even ask Anita about the rapture
I figured,
Check it out
What is a panther? A animal that kills
I'm like a shark with blood comin' out the gills
You could never in your wildest dreams
Get
Check it out
What is a panther? A animal that kills
I'm like a shark with blood comin' out the gills
You could never in your wildest dreams
Get
prohibit the corny forms
(And we're in, your neighborhood) on the norms
Capture, was to, whack ya
Manu-facture, you can even ask Anita about the,
(What's the 411, hun?)
I know you got it going on
(Hey yo, I got it going on) (ay Mary kick that shit)
Yeah nigga, what makes you better than the next
Check it out
What is a panther? A animal that kills
I'm like a shark with blood comin' out the gills
You could never in your wildest dreams
Get
You wanted smoke, lil bitch,
Take a hit of this dope lil bitch
Well you was on live saying my name,
You already know lil bitch,
You callin me out
when the dope game got dangerous
In my interviews talking plug talk
On my last album I explained it (I explained it)
With a fork telling you let
the wave, yeah
She used to play, yeah
Now she on my face, yeah
You in or you out
This is a gang
This is a gang
This is a gang
This is a gang
This is
We miss you, a'yo Kato
A'yo K', let me kick it with you for a minute
There was things left unsaid, dog, we wasn't finished
Never got to say thank
Motherfuckin' real G's
Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless
Yo Dre, what's up
Boy you should have known by now
Stop him in his tracks, show
the dance, do the d-) (yeah, check it out, yeah, now)
The grind never stops, like I'm running from the cops
It's hard to stay humble when you're force-fed
a writer,
Yeah the passenger hopped out, but you got shot by the driver
There's a killer like everywhere, so why would you take it there,
Neighborhood
Hey 'Pac, it's yo' boy
Hey man so far I've been listenin' to your album
And I ain't heard nothin' you could kick back and smoke a beadie to
You
real
Confident of your lyrical content, having mass appeal
Less promotional airplay getting jerked by bootleggers
Having classic albums, not platinum
it, chop it and cook it
See how shit come back round for ya? (Yeah)
Gotta kick in the oven now watch it bubble
And you can knock on my door
But you
drive from me to you south on I-95 and on do it till the day that I die if I need to, just to see you, just to see you
Hip hop staions fading in and out
(What's the 411, hun?)
I know you got it going on
(Hey yo, I got it going on) (ay Mary kick that shit)
Yeah nigga, what makes you better than the next
This is your album, so that means you definitely got to get funky, so run it
[The D.O.C.]
Swinging, singing a brand new rap
On a rhythm concocted by
'll never get rich surrounded by broke customers
You gotta learn to maneuver through the tight spots
Dirty bike cops keep searchin' a nigga Nike socks
I
Motherfuckin' real G's
Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless
Yo Dre, what's up
Boy you should have known by now
Stop him in his tracks, show
you none
When it reach out and teach someone, blaze they buns
Now I'm guilty by association
Times of blackness eclipsin the sun, target practice
eat that ass like quiche, crack a smile like Shanice
Straight outta Jamaica, seen? Jamaica, Queens
But you could find me out in Georgia, or anywhere
Watch this Bun
I'mma say this to you niggas out there who
Think this shit is cool
cause it ain't cool
Cause a lot of niggas doing a lot
Of fugazi
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